


Of Cryptids and Wrong Numbers

by NicoWrites



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cryptid Hunting, Cryptids, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Multi, Shopping Malls, Tagging as I go, Texting, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, wrong number texts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-01 04:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12696954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicoWrites/pseuds/NicoWrites
Summary: When Pidge got a message from an unknown number, asking to go hunt mothman at 5am, of course they said yes. Who wouldn't? Now, they've gotten themself involved in the lives of two trainwrecks of boys, who they may or may not be developing feelings for. Chaos ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Look there are not enough Kidgance fics and I just wanted to write one ?? So I'm starting this and hoping it isn't a complete flop, even though I know that I can't really expect feedback on a rarepair fic. 
> 
> Rated T for language.
> 
> Bolded text is Pidge. 
> 
> Italics is Keith.
> 
> Underlined is Lance.

_(4:56 AM): lance you wouldnt fuckin believe_

 

_(4:57 AM): [image attached]_

 

_(4:57 AM): its happening_

 

_(5:03 AM): respond you ass_

 

Pidge stared at their screen intently. Obviously, they were not the intended recipient of this message, but they were interested nonetheless. The image attached was a picture of a newspaper headline. A grainy image of the sky, some dark creature hovering just above the horizon line, accompanied it.

 

**(5:07 AM): holy shit is that mothman**

 

_(5:07 AM): you bet your flat ass thats mothman_

 

_(5:08 AM): can you meet me at my dorm in five we've got to go investigate_

 

**(5:08 AM): gonna be honest youve got the wrong number but i want in on this anyways**

 

**(5:09 AM): ill bring snacks**

 

_(5:10 AM): fuck_

 

_(5:11 AM): one second_

 

_(5:16 AM): ok the guy i meant to send that to says “can we do this maybe not at 5am” and refuses to change his mind_

 

_(5:16 AM): so youre in_

 

**(5:18 AM): fuck yea, meet me at the seedy convenience store @ the end of elm st. in ten min**

 

_(5:19 AM): ill be there._

 

**(5:22 AM): aight**

 

Ten minutes later, Pidge was there, and waiting. They wore a dark green hoodie, a bit scruffy from frequent use. They weren't exactly in prime condition for meeting people, but seeing as the clock was rapidly approaching six in the morning and they hadn't slept, they reasoned it was probably acceptable. Besides, they weren't here to make friends; their goal tonight was cryptids.

 

The lovely thing about convenience stores is how, well, convenient they are. Whoever decided that people need a place to buy cheetos at 4am was (in Pidge's humble, but correct opinion) very right.

 

“Are you planning on buying anything, kid?” The man at the counter had a gruff voice, understandably. He was probably approaching the end of his shift, and didn't want a shoplifting incident on his record.

 

“Yeah. Just waiting for a friend.” They responded, sighing and leaning against a wall. He didn't probe any further. Though the artificial yellow light from the store made it hard to read, Pidge was pretty sure their phone was reading 5:34.

 

Mystery number should have been getting there soon, then. It must have been under thirty seconds after that thought when the bell above the door announced a new arrival.

 

The guy who entered fit their mental image nearly perfectly. A bit taller than Pidge (who isn't?), but not by much. He was wearing a battered looking red zip-up hoodie, dark and diluted to the point of looking almost brown.He held a camera that seemed far more expensive than the rest of him, and his mullet just added to the overall 80s cryptid hunter aesthetic they were both accentuating.

 

“Mothman Guy?” Pidge asked, detaching themself from the wall they'd been leaning upon. He startled when they moved, stiffening anxiously when his eyes met Pidge's.

 

“Yeah, that'd be me.” He confirmed, relaxing just slightly. “And you're Wrong Number Kid?”

 

“Mhm.” They responded, a smile curling their lips. “But my friends call me Pidge.” They extended a hand to shake, prompting him to share his own name.

 

“Ah. I'm Keith.” He introduced himself, before clasping their hand in his own and shaking once.

 

“Keith. Nice. So, what are we taking with us? If we get lost, we might have to ration it and live off of it for the rest of our unnaturally short lives. I thought you'd want a say in your potential final meal.” They explained, gesturing towards the shelves of junk food before them. “We have to be constantly ready for fight or flight, so we should choose wisely.”

 

He nodded seriously. “I'm going to say Pringles are our best bet. Reusable containers, and they don't rustle loudly. We want to be as quiet as possible.”

 

A smart move. Pidge's first impressions of Keith were definitely in the clear. “Good idea. Any flavor preference?” Keith shook his head no, so they just grabbed an unflavored one.

 

They pulled out five dollars, sliding both the bill and the chips across the counter. The tired man scanned their purchase almost subconsciously, before placing it firmly in Pidge's arms.

 

“You two stay out of trouble, yeah?”

 

“No guarantees.” Keith spoke up, his mouth twitching up into a slightly lopsided grin.

 

By the time they'd returned to the grimy street outside, the sky had lightened just slightly. Still not enough to see well, and the sun hadn't breached the horizon; the sky was a deep blue instead of its former dead black.

 

Pidge opened the tube of chips, looking to their newfound cryptid hunting partner. “You ready?”

 

“Hell yeah.” They were still about a fifteen minute walk from the woods where the sighting in the paper was located, and they made their way towards the spot in the heavy silence of early morning, neither being extroverted enough to initiate a conversation.

 

“Do you still have that newspaper clipping?” Pidge asked, voice low in spite of the fact that nobody was around to hear.

 

“Yeah.” He pulled a crumpled paper from his pocket, unfolding it and holding it in front of us. Pidge shone their phone's flashlight onto the page, wasting precious battery life. “Can you tell which way he was going?”

 

Pidge squinted closer.  “This way.” They put their phone in sleep mode and pocketed it, hurrying across the street and stepping into the cloak of the forest. Keith hurried behind them, taking out and glancing at a compass in the dim streetlight's illumination as he went.

 

“Town's to our west right now. We need to keep track of that.” He commented, and they nodded back at him. Every crackle of dead leaves beneath their feet seemed to sound twice as loud as normal, and though they'd both stopped to take out flashlights, they were tripping and struggling through the dense greenery.

 

“If he's going to be anywhere, it'll be as far away from the roads as he can get. I've been scouring out this place for years now. If he's going to be anywhere, it'll be the cavernous area, dead center of the woods. Meaning we should be going northeast for about half a mile. Take pictures as we go. Flash on, obviously. We should get there before 7.” They started explaining, ploughing ahead of their partner.

 

“Got it.” He wasn't much of a talker, but neither was Pidge, really. They were a bit of a show-off when it came to things they knew a lot about, but chatting for recreational purposes wasn't really their forte.

 

They walked in almost total silence, surrounded by the susurrations of nocturnal wildlife and the occasional click and flash of Keith's camera.

 

“I think we're here.” Pidge whispered, maybe half an hour later, covered in to scratches and dirt. They shone their flashlight onto a tall rock that stood before them, and then behind it, where a hilly part of the terrain formed a kind of shelter between them.

 

The area was full of similar outcrops, and Pidge checked the time quickly (6:37) before scrambling onto the ledge. At this point, the sun had started the rise, and their chances of finding mothman himself were rather slim.

 

“We've got to hurry, or I'll be late for school. Also, the sun is rising.” Pidge urged, scanning the area for any kind of clue.

 

Keith's camera shuttered, and suddenly a flash of light appeared, along with a rapid fluttering of wings.

 

“Fucking shit!” Pidge cussed, nearly falling off of their rock as a flock of startled black birds took off almost right next to them. “Keith! You asshole.”

 

It was dark, but they were pretty sure he shrugged. “Sorry, thought I saw something. You've got classes soon? We should probably head back. We can come back soon, when we have more time. It doesn't look like we'll find him today anyways.” He seemed a little bit put out, but Pidge felt the same way, and was in no place to comfort him.

 

“Right. Let's go, I guess.” They sighed, sliding down from the rock that they were perched on and following their companion back the way they had come.

 

When they emerged, they were both worse for wear, dirty and covered in leaves and minor injuries from fighting branches.

 

Pidge sighed heavily when they reached the convenience store where they were to part ways.

 

“That wasn't a very successful hunt.” They lamented.

 

“No kidding,” Keith shoved his hands into his pockets. “But it was nice to meet you anyways, Pidge.” He quickly added, side-eyeing me from where he was standing.

 

“Yeah, you too. See you next time.” They replied, before they both parted ways, Pidge rushing home to prepare for school, their mind eager to point out what they'd said.

 

Next time. Isn't it strange, how one never meets a friend in a place that they'd expect.

 

Even though they'd hurried to prepare themselves for school, showering and downing a coffee at an alarming speed, Pidge still looked like a zombie gremlin when they got to school. Not that this was particularly uncommon. They were a major night owl, the bags under their eyes pretty much permanent due to their frequent all-nighters and overall messy sleep schedule.

 

Then, they got a notification on their phone. Keith, maybe? They glanced up at the teacher, who was obviously paying them no attention.

 

They opened the message, finding themself in a group chat containing Keith and one mystery number.

 

**(10:34 AM): new phone who dis**

 

_(10:34 AM): ayy ur here_

 

_(10:35 AM): this is lance the one I meant to text last night rjdjfhshhfs_

 

(10:36 AM): wow never thought id see the day teeth got a datemate lmaoo 

 

(10:36 AM): *keith 

 

**(10:40 AM): this is slander i am a cryptidhuntingmate how dare**

 

_(10:42 AM): ^^ pidge is nothing more than ur replacement bc SOMeBODY wouldn't go find mothman with me sorry lance u had ur chance ://_

 

(10:44 AM): :d rUDE u texted me at 5am litrally nobody wud say yes to that :((( 

 

**(10:44 AM): i did**

 

_(10:44 AM): pidge did_

 

(10:46 AM): i 

 

(10:46 AM): i cant,, 

 

(10:47 AM): how are there two of you who are like this 

 

(10:48 AM): youd think natural selection would have brought down the population of death-seekers by now 

 

**(10:50 AM): >:)**

 

_(10:50 AM): >:) _

 

(10:51 AM): im done

 

“So what are you smiling about?” Hunk leaned over, startling Pidge as they quickly closed the messaging app, cringing slightly as their phone vibrated one more time.

 

“Nothing, Hunk, don't worry about it.”

 

“Oh come on, who is it?” He nudged them gently with an elbow, curiosity obviously eating him up.

 

“It was a wrong number text. I was laughing at his misfortune. You know how I am.” One half-truth, one lie. They didn't even know why they were being so secretive about it. Though, supposed they were one half-truth more truthful than they could’ve been, so that was a win in the honesty department.

 

“Oh yes, of course. That's why you've been smiling at your phone for the past twenty minutes.” He obviously hadn't believed them, but didn't push any further.

  
“Of course.” They confirmed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo chapter two!! Honestly there's not even a plot to this just fluff as Pidge gets to know the two of them for the first time. :) Enjoy !!!
> 
> Remember:
> 
> Bold is Pidge.  
> Italics is Keith.  
> Underlined is Lance.

**(2:46 AM): so like do you think some ghosts don't believe in humans**

 

_(2:47 AM): tag urself i’m the superstitious ghost who is scared of “evil humans”_

 

**(2:47 AM): oof**

 

(7:21 AM): why were you two awake at 3am wtf

 

Pidge smiled at their screen. This had been a common way of being bade good morning as of late. It was just so nice to have a fellow night owl to share late night thoughts with, and really, if they were going to message Keith, they may as well let Lance in on the midnight messaging and just dish out their surreal concepts in the group chat.

 

Lance was pretty intense about sleep habits though. Apparently, he gets nine or more hours a night. Which, to Pidge, seemed like an exaggeration. Especially being a freshman in college. Who manages that?

 

Keith and Lance both go to college together, majoring in astrophysics. Pidge should feel left out, stuck finishing their last year of highschool, but well, that was their intended major too. So, no big deal. They'd catch up.

 

Despite the fact that Pidge presumed they studied at least sometimes, the group chat was always going wild. At least one or two of them were on at any given time, and it turns out both Pidge and Lance shared a habit of spamming when nobody else was around.

 

They still hadn't met Lance in person, and hadn't met up with Keith since their initial introduction. They weren't even sure what Lance looked like, exactly, except that he was supposedly a “noodle kid”, according to Keith.

 

Even though Keith insisted that Lance and him hadn't been good friends until Pidge came along, they had a hard time believing it. First off, they were neighbors, so they'd obviously seen each other often, and secondly, their banter was obviously affectionate. It was almost painful to watch them.

 

They'd almost call it flirting; and Pidge wasn't known for her sharp eye when it came to social interactions.

 

They opened their phone, a new notification emphasizing their thought process.

 

_(7:46 AM): pdidid confirm that worms dont mind having no hands_

 

(7:46 AM): pdid

 

**(7:47 AM): pdid**

 

_(7:47 AM): shut up just answer the question_

 

(7:48 AM): WOULD YOU BE HAPPY IF U WERE A WORM KEITH? WOULD U?

 

_(7:49 AM): yea_

 

**(7:51 AM): do worms even know that hands exist**

 

(7:52 AM): ….holy shit

 

**(7:53 AM): I gtg to school yall solve this dilemma while im gone**

 

They muted their phone, just so they wouldn't be tempted by it. Okay, time to whip out the colored pens and highlighters, and lose themself in the world of note-taking. Because Hunk was getting nosier by the day, and the longer they held off telling him, the more suspicious he'd get.

 

They just hoped he would forget about their mysterious group chat buddies if they stopped messaging them around him.

 

“So...how are the mystery pals doing?” He asked, the moment Pidge walked into the classroom.

 

“They want to know if worms know about hands.”

 

Hunk paused for a moment, opening his mouth to respond and then closing it. He stared into the air between them, obviously deep in thought.

 

“Do...do they?”

 

“Who knows?”

 

“Worms know.”

 

Finally, the teacher entered the room, saving them from having to make conversation. They carefully highlighted the title on their note, letting the warm embrace of routine capture them.

 

The day dragged by, and when they finally got back to their phone an eternity later, the first message they saw was from Lance.

 

(9:02 AM): The worms fucking killed them.

 

They let out a heavy exhalation of amusement, covering their face with their hand to stifle it.

 

**(3:13 PM): not dead**

 

_(3:14 PM): disappointed but not surprised_

 

**(3:14 PM): rude**

 

(3:21 PM): so btw when am I gonna meet the pidgeon

 

(3:22 PM): ;)

 

**(3:22 PM): if u wink at me like that again then never**

 

_(3:23 PM): oh snap_

 

_(3:23 PM): roasted_

 

(3:34 PM): :( rude

 

**(3:36 PM): but fr im free this weekend if yall wanna hang**

 

(3:37 PM): uninvite keith and im in

 

_(3:37 PM): wh_

 

**(3:38 PM): ouch keith got roasted**

 

**(3:39 PM): but no**

 

_(3:40 PM): :))))) nice_

 

(3:41 PM): rude fine

 

**(3:41 PM): >:))))**

 

Pidge squirmed, sitting upright and dropping their phone into their lap. It had been a long time since they'd properly planned an outing with friends. Aside from Hunk, they didn't really have anybody to go out with, and the two of them prefered staying at home anyways.

 

But...it would be nice. They were excited to meet Lance for the first time too. If anybody could get Pidge to leave behind her life as a house hermit and do something excited, it would be these two.

 

Sighing contentedly, they turned off their phone and placed it on the desk beside them, staring up at the ceiling and letting themself daydream.

 

The buzzing of their phone next to them would usually be a nuisance, but in the moment it was almost comforting, a gentle reminder that their two newest friends were there, just a text or two away.

 

* * *

 

As it had turned out, the three of them had different ideas about what a fun time out might be. Lance had suggested laser tag, but Keith shot him down. Then Pidge suggested they go see a movie or something, which was fine until they actually tried to decide on what to watch. It was a mess.

 

The compromise ended up being a trip to the mall, because apparently it was the only place relevant to all of their interests.

 

Once they got there, however, things ended up being a total disaster.

 

“Lance, what the fuck, you're fucking tall.” Were Pidge's first words when they met up.

 

“It's not fair.” Keith said, but from what they could see, he was probably only an inch or two shorter.

 

“You can't talk. I feel so fucking small.”

 

Lance smirked, leaning down and booping them on the nose. “You should've thought of that before you decided to be short.”

 

Pidge scrunched up their face, sticking out their tongue and licking Lance's hand, causing him to shriek and pull away. “What the fuck, you have a long tongue. You can touch your nose with your tongue?! I didn't think people could actually do that!” He looked between Pidge and Keith, scandalized.

 

Pidge chuckled darkly, stepping up between the two boys. “Anyways, where should we go first?”

 

“There's a store up ahead that sells the nicest lotions. And scented candles! Given the fact that you're both greasy-ass goblins, I suggest we go there, first and foremost.” Lance suggested.

 

Honestly, Pidge couldn't deny it. They had been the greasiest person they knew, before they met Keith. “Sure. Fine. Let's go sniff candles.”

 

Keith crossed his arms across his chest, but didn't object out loud.

 

The store Lance lead them to wreaked of... everything. A room full of scented lotions and candles and oils, and they were all mixing together to form some unnamable odor of 'scented thing.’

 

He inhaled noticeably, sighing with contentment. “It's so nice in here, isn't it?”

 

Pidge and Keith both made eye contact for a brief moment. Pore-clogged, acne ridden eye contact. They did not belong in a place of skincare.

 

Lance grabbed their hand, and they bit back a little shriek of surprise when he dragged them over to something that had caught his eye. Pidge had never been very touchy-feely, and his hand felt almost electric.

 

He shoved a jar under their nose, unscrewing the lid. “Sniff.” He instructed. They took a tentative whiff, looking down at the dark blue candle they'd just smelled.

 

“It's nice.” They said plainly. It had a light and airy aroma, like ocean mist, or something.

 

Lance frowned. “Okay okay, how about this one?” The next candle was bright orange, and smelled overwhelmingly of citrus.

 

“Okay, wow, that one's... strong. Here, how about this?” They glanced around, quickly picking out a dark green candle with a picture of a pine tree on it.

 

He sniffed. “You could just go outside and smell this any time though, it's so basic.” He frowned judgmentally.

 

“Excuse me, this is all the pleasures of nature, without the rabbit shit and poison ivy. To be enjoyed from the comfort of your own home.”

 

“Oh my god Pidge, you need to leave your house sometimes.”

 

“Don't sass me.”

 

By this time, Keith had caught up to them, looking bored. “Can we move on now? I feel like my nose is going numb.” He complained.

 

Lance sighed, shoulders drooping in an exaggerated pose of defeat. “Fine. Let's go. I bet you want to show Pidge the knife store, you weirdo.”

 

“Oh, I think I've been there before.” They piped in. “It's pretty cool.”

 

Keith's eyes lit up, and he shot Lance the smuggest look I'd ever seen.

 

“What?! You too?” Lance exclaimed, before sighing and giving in. “Okay, I guess we're going to the knife store.”

 

Pidge nodded, moving ahead of the two boys enthusiastically. They caught them glaring at each other, and bickering about something they couldn't hear. Their foreheads were nearly touching.

 

They couldn't help but wonder again what their relationship had been like before Pidge had barged into it. There was some pretty obvious sexual tension there.

 

Either way, they made it to the Knife Store. It sold other things too, obviously, but nobody really cared. Their wood carvings were kind of neat, they supposed.

 

Keith stepped up beside them, looking much more alive than he had before.

 

“You like this store?” They asked, rhetorically.

 

“I love it.”

 

“I bought my knife here. That one. The Big Brother™.” They commented.

 

The two of them stepped over the the knife they'd pointed out, and Keith examined it critically.

 

“Good choice.”

 

Lance popped up between them. “Why do you need a knife, anyways?” He asked, resting his forearms on either of their shoulders as if they were armrests.

 

“Cryptid hunting. Fighting nasties in the woods. Defending yourself from murderers in the middle of the night. Come on, Lance, they're a household essential.” Pidge explained, voice completely monotone.

 

“Of course.” Lance said, faking a completely changed opinion. “How could I think otherwise?”

 

Keith pouted at Lance's blatant judgement, shrugging off his arm. “Come on, Pidge, ignore him. He's a loser who doesn't know his knives.” He walked ahead, and Pidge followed his path with their eyes for a moment before trailing after him, briefly examining the products around them as they went.

 

Keith seemed to be a lot more enamored with the place than his friends, his eyes practically sparkling as he examined the blades.

 

Pidge hung back, glancing over at Lance. “How many of these does he have already?” They asked, still watching him as he flicked the blade of a long, narrow weapon.

 

“I don't know. More than he needs, probably.”

 

Lance looked between Pidge and Keith, lacking subtlety in any kind and looking concerned. Pidge frowned. Was he jealous? They were still convinced that the two of them had chemistry of some kind, though they weren't about to ask Lance about it outright.

 

They shrugged it off, and it wasn't long before they were back in the mall corridors, wandering past tacky clothes store upon tacky clothes store.

 

They kept pausing to let Lance run into stores and try on ridiculous hats. He was undeniably a hat person, though, and dragged a couple of amused snorts from his companions.

 

“I should probably get going.” Pidge finally admitted, checking the time. They'd blown an entire afternoon, and no doubt their brother would be nosing around about where they'd been.

 

“For sure. Text you later, Pidgeotto!” Lance responded, all cheery enthusiasm. They waved at the two boys, getting a quiet wave back from Keith as Lance grabbed his hand and dragged him away. “No way I'm letting you ditch too, asshole. Come on, we're going back to that store and getting you something for your poor, mistreated pores.”

 

“What?! No way. There's nothing wrong with my skin, Lance…”

 

They couldn't catch the rest of their conversation, but found themselves grinning conspiratorially. Maybe they'd just have to hook up their two new friends. They were cute. Cute together, that is. Individually so, too, they guessed, but not...yeah.

  
In any case, it had been a fun afternoon. Pidge found themself looking forward to the possibility of a next time. And no doubt they'd be waiting on that promised text from Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tfw they all think that the other two are DEFINITELY going to get together... Little do they know...
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!! Please comment and kudos etc. etc. It's really important if you want me to update <3 love y'all, see u like in a weekish

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed, I should be updated fairly frequently. Thank you so much for your support! I love these three so much.


End file.
